Make My Day. Vroom-Vroom.

Service representatives!  Sometimes it would really make my day to get good service from a service department.

On Friday night our new car is afflicted with warning-light-itis and has to be towed to the dealership Saturday morning.  As the tow truck drives off, I call the dealership to tell them the car will be arriving.  Leave a message.  Hour goes by.  Leave another message.  Another hour goes by... Call main number.  Talk to Person Who Doesn't Know Anything.  She promises I'll get a call back in 10 minutes.  Another hour goes by. 

I'm starting to get concerned.  Shouldn't the service department be just a tad bit curious about the car that was dropped, hopefully not literally, on their doorstep?  Personally, I'm a bit curious to know if there's anything I need to do.  Give them my name?  Relay what's wrong with it?  Heck, for all I know maybe there's some car repair equivalent of a Medical Request for Treatment or a HIPAA law form to sign.  Plus, as a professional worry-wart, I'm curious to know if the car actually arrived because, in exchange for the car, I have only a business card, albeit a nice colorful one, from the very nice tow truck driver, but it doesn't seem like an equal trade for a car.  My mind flashes to a poster I saw years ago at an Ed Debevic's restaurant: "The guy in the valet uniform who took your car doesn't work here." 

I call the dealership again.  I'm more insistent with Person Who Doesn't Know Anything.  For my insistence, I'm put on hold.  Progress!  Twenty minutes on hold.  A service rep finally picks up and tells me she can't help me right now because she has a customer.  I tell her I'm a customer.  She says, "But THIS customer is right HERE."  I reply that customers on the phone are as valid as customers in person.  She says, "You're welcome to come here in person."  Grrr.  I reply --and I deserve kudos for not dropping even one f-bomb-- "I would, but you have my car."  She says she'll call me back before they close for the day.  Another hour goes by.  But, surprise, she keeps her word by calling 5 minutes before service closes for the weekend.  She tells me in an irritating, absurdly sing-songy happy voice that it was a sim-ple problem with the car's com-puter and it's been re-cali-brated.  And it's alllll fixed.  And, they washed it and it's allll ready to be picked up.  And they close in 5 minutes.

Grrrr.  But, ah, there is sometimes sweet revenge.

Well, I don't absolutely need the car for the weekend but I'd like it and, besides, it seems goofy to have it sit there --all freshly washed & re-calibrated & lonely-- until Monday.  So, I ask if there isn't some way I can get the car ("Beam me up, Scottie" perhaps?) before they close.  She offers to leave the key in the sales office, which is open later.

Ah, yes, the sales office.  We're quite familiar with sales at this particular dealership, as we'd been there THREE times in the past couple months TRYING to buy a car.  The sales guy --picture "Dirty Harry" with a case of terminal arrogance, a deficiency of initiative, and poor posture-- always was a tad imposed upon to sell cars.  Perhaps we asked wildly difficult questions:  "Does it come in blue?"  Perhaps we were too demanding:  "Well, could you give us a call us when you find out?"  Never a call.  Hmmm.  We seemed to be working way to hard to buy a car and certainly didn't want to bother this slouchy DH so we eventually drove 90-some miles to another dealership and bought a car on the spot. 

So, as luck would have it, on Saturday when we arrived to pick up the car, ol' DH saunters toward us and greets us with his usual pained expression of 'Oh-great-these-two-LookieLoos-here-again-to-waste-my-time'.  Well, this time he is correct:  This will be a  waste his time. 

I say, "Hi. I'm here to pick up my car." 
Uhhh, whaaa? 
"My key?  The service department gave you the key to my car." 
Uh, huh.  Whaa? 
"That's my car over there.  I'm here to pick it up.  I understand you have my key?" 
Ohhh.  (Brief moment of dramatic silence.)

I have to say that getting into that freshly washed and re-calibrated car, revving the engine, and putting the top down right in front of ol' DH felt pretty sweet.  Go ahead, make my day.  Vroom-vroom.